


Of Sephiroth and Socially Awkward Derision [i.e. Thanksgiving]

by arnediadglanduath



Series: Sephiroth Can't Holiday [Or Can He?] [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: And somewhat drunk, Basically just Thanksgiving, Fluff, Genesis can't cook for shit, M/M, Mentions of fellatio, Rated M because.., Sephiroth is socially awkward, Swearing, This should not be relateable, mild alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 19:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16708237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arnediadglanduath/pseuds/arnediadglanduath
Summary: Essentially, Sephiroth does not do Thanksgiving. Or Holidays.But he wants to because Genesis.





	Of Sephiroth and Socially Awkward Derision [i.e. Thanksgiving]

Thanksgiving was-as far as Sephiroth was concerned-a superfluous holiday. 

Sitting in an armchair in Genesis’ living room, watching as the redhead rushed around with an uncooked edible fowl, the General reflected that to him, every holiday was superfluous. Mostly because everyone involved seemed to lose all reservations pertaining to insanity. Miraculously, he’d managed to avoid significant calendar events in the past due to being unattached and imposing. Unfortunately, entering into a relationship with his second-in-command meant that such avoidance was now impossible and he was required to endure for the sake of goodwill and the possibility of ever having sex again. This was-officially-his first participant holiday ever. In the past, he’d have holed himself up in his office to drown in paperwork until everyone came in the next day nursing hangovers and bitter expressions from arguing with relatives. He was perfectly happy to immerse himself in his work while his colleagues ate and drank too much only to regret it later. 

So far he was singularly unimpressed.

From what he’d heard of SOLDIER’s previous Thanksgiving escapades, they were rather more like a rave than a celebration. Unfortunately, being in a relationship meant that Genesis’ desire to do things domestically had risen to uncontainable proportions. ‘Domesticity’ seemed to require a considerable amount of food preparation. By Sephiroth’s knowledge, his partner could cook but he couldn’t cook a five course meal and he certainly couldn’t cook in large quantities like he was currently trying to. The redhead had-in succession-burnt five turkeys in the past seventy two hours. All of them had been declared _’practice turkeys’_ but the dejected expression on his lover’s face after each subsequent bird-related conflagration told him they were anything but. And he might have been sympathetic if he hadn’t been forced to sit and watch the Commander char six weeks worth of edible food in increasingly creative ways. But he was, so the most he could do was rearrange his face into something less long-suffering and more politely suffering with a touch of empathy.

Sephiroth was fairly sure you could not Firaga a turkey into a decent meal, but he wasn’t going to mention that to Genesis.

Besides repeated cooking disasters, there was also decorating. Angeal had been tasked with this, and the manner in which he decorated was questionable in the sense that it wasn’t decorating as much as it was rearranging the furniture, stuffing dried corn stalks in corners, placing autumn squash on countertops, and ladening every other available surface with yellow chrysanthemums. The final item wasn’t unattractive but it was very pollenous and it made him sneeze every five minutes. There _had_ been candles but those were quickly disposed of when Fair lit one next to a corn stalk and nearly burned Genesis’ apartment to the ground. Other than that, there were various edibles lying around that he had no desire to partake in due to their suspicious shape and overall gaudy nature. Cookies shaped like pumpkins, latticed tarts with leaves atop them, cold cuts artfully arranged on some type of tree made with pinned parsley and a cake. 

There was also the question of the guest list.

Sephiroth did not care how many people attended their ‘get together’-as Genesis called it-he only cared that they got there as soon as possible so that they could leave as soon as possible. He hated parties and had always hated them. The first time he’d been to a party was when Hojo had announced him as ‘ready for use’ when he was nine. He’d spent the next six hours toted around under the arm of the President until he wanted to kill everyone in the room. The fact that he was fully capable of it at that age didn’t assuage him in the least. He hated it. Postulating, smiling, saying _’thank you’_ to those who _’allowed’_ him to serve on the battlefield, drinking glass after glass of expensive champagne in an attempt to get _some_ sort of buzz during the horrificness of it all...it was tedious to say the least. Thankfully, Genesis had bought an abundance of bourbon, and he was well past ‘buzzed’ at this point but it would wear off quickly and the redhead had insisted he couldn’t drink it all. He had-effectively-squandered his attempt to be hideously drunk through it all before anyone had even arrived yet.

Thankfully, it seemed that his lover was at least somewhat sensitive to the fact that he wasn’t going to be able to handle an exorbitantly large amount of people in such a small space. The list of invited individuals was short; consisting of Hewley, Fair, Tseng-who had declined-, Lazard-who had also RSVP'd in the negative-, and Gillian Hewley who had been there for several days and had offered to help Genesis cook several times only to be shot down. It was, all in all, possibly the smallest celebrational gathering he had ever been privy to attending. And while he didn’t like the _idea_ of it he could at least appreciate that it was going to be a quiet, private affair with very little fuss. 

That all-of course-depended on one’s definition of _’fuss.’_

By his estimate, Genesis had been planning this for at least three weeks to various degrees of dissatisfaction. And it didn’t matter what he suggested, something else was better and the redhead was determined to make it perfect. Sephiroth didn’t personally see what was wrong with ordering turkey from somewhere else and settling in to watch a documentary they both enjoyed. _Just the two of them._ But his redheaded lover was determined for him to experience Thanksgiving to the fullest extent and that meant burning flightless birds, decorating with vegetables and allergen-reactant plants, and inviting people over who didn’t know him very well. The General had no idea how so much worrying and decorating and fretting added to the experience of a holiday but as long as he didn’t have to get in the middle of it he wasn’t going to complain. Looking sadly at his empty glass of bourbon, the silver-haired SOLDIER frowned and closed his eyes. If he took a nap, maybe Genesis would be done with everything he was trying so hysterically to do, and by the time he woke up the guests might have come and gone. He seriously doubted he could get away with it, but it was a nice thought.

Thankfulness.

Grimacing, Sephiroth resisted the urge to kick the ottoman to his right. According to Genesis, the main concept behind Thanksgiving was thankfulness, and apparently some people went out of their way to make lists of the things they were thankful for. Privately, he thought this was some type of insanity, but the Commander had a list of things about a mile long tacked up in the kitchen and whenever he saw it he was accosted with the urge to maul it purely from pure frustration. He didn’t understand a holiday centered around being grateful for things because he was very unaccustomed to gratefulness in the first place. Existing as an individual driven by necessity and the will to survive tended to dampen that sort of exuberance. So far, the only thing his list included was the hastily crossed-out word _’office’_. Because he was thankful for the peace and quiet he got in it, and it was where he’d rather be than right here at the moment. 

Neither of them were stellar hosts at this point.

His partner was too hysterical to treat anyone to any degree of niceness and he was too drunk to do anything but sit in a chair and wonder where in life he had gone wrong. The fact that he was very quickly becoming sober again didn’t help his mood at all. There was also the singular truth that his second-in-Command kept shooting him increasingly murderous looks and he knew it was only a matter of time before he’d have to get up and do something despite his level of intoxication. There was also a part of him that felt terribly guilty for being entirely useless in situations like this. Not because he wanted to be but because social gatherings were-singularly-terrifying things. And it was easy to blend into large crowds; easy to become an anomaly even when there were large amounts of people who wanted to talk to you because of the general ratio of bodies. Here, he was forced to be present and attentive, pushed to the forefront and despite the fact that the individuals he would be spending time with were people he knew, he was still undeniably nervous.

Hojo had taught him how to pander to shareholders; he’d never taught him how to spend time with friends.

Glancing at the curtain shrouding Genesis’ bed from view, Sephiroth resisted the urge to duck behind it and curl up under the comforter. At least that was a place he was familiar with. He’d spent many a night there with the redhead snuggled up under his chin like his hard, muscular body was a downy-soft stuffed animal begging to be squeezed. He refrained because he knew if he did anything of the sort the Commander was likely to put him out and not invite him back for at least a month. And this shouldn’t have been so _hard_ but it was hard...it was hard to look past his own limitations, his fear of socialization in order to be present for someone he cared about. He’d told himself over and over again that Genesis was stressed, that he was trying to make this into something happy and personable. It didn’t stop him from being cynical about it, but he was trying to be fair because it obviously meant a lot to the older man and he didn’t want to _ruin_ things just by being there. 

Finding the room slightly more stable, Sephiroth uncrossed his legs and sat forward somewhat. When the floor didn’t seem like it was going to drop out from under him he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Setting his glass down on the coffee table in front of him, he glanced at the bright red, wall hanging divan directly across from him before thinking better of it and looking at the white chaise lounge to the left. It wasn’t all terrible, really. The orangeness of the occasion didn’t go with the decor in the apartment but its placement was succinct and careful. Likewise, the flowers weren’t intolerable as long as he didn’t get too close to them and the corn stalks were loud but only when someone bumped into them. He still didn’t know what he’d say, didn’t know how everything would go, but he had to _try_. Being in a relationship-as Angeal had advised him-meant doing things that you didn’t always want to do; stepping out of your comfort zone and discovering things that you otherwise might not know you liked. And he wasn’t sure that he would ever like Thanksgiving, but he was fairly sure that he like Genesis quite a lot.

“Seph.”

Blinking, the aforementioned man looked up at his weary lover. Covered in a layer of grease and looking entirely discomfited, the older man raised a scarlet brow and crossed his arms. Wearing an apron that was covered in sooty handprints with his hair in disarray, and the Commander still managed to look the picture of lethal beauty. Frowning, trying to work past the feeling of utter inadequacy that had suffused him, the General looked down. 

“Gaia, I want to punch you for being cute and stupid.” When the silver-haired FIRST lifted his head to protest, whatever he’d meant to say died in his throat because Genesis was smiling gently. Slender fingers cupped his chin. “Honey, you’re adorable and all that shit. But you’re thinking about this way too hard.” In the face of a continual lack of verbal reciprocation, the blue-eyed man sighed. “C’mon. I know you’re wasted but you’ve got to get this out of your system.” 

Without ceremony, the younger man found himself being hauled up out of his armchair. Any protest he might have made was put aside in favor of staying upright, and when he swayed slightly Genesis snorted and slung an arm around his waist. Up close, the smell of basted turkey grease was a little overwhelming, but he was able to breathe through it as they made a slow path to the kitchen. It seemed-through some miraculous turn of events-that the redhead had managed to get the meal in the oven without setting everything on fire. Moreover, the bird in question looked surprisingly well cared for and was turning a light golden brown. Leaving him to lean against the counter with his hair stuck to his face, his second-in-command strode to the opposite side of the counter and began rummaging in a few drawers before pulling out a sleeve of bagels and throwing one of them into the toaster. The General supposed he must have looked confused because the older man smirked.

“You need to eat something simple” he supplied, ripping a paper towel from the rack and slinging the now-toasted bagel onto it, he slid it across the counter. “Otherwise the minute I start serving dinner you’re going to ruin the carpet. It’s white and all that bourbon is _not._ ” 

Grimacing, Sephiroth acknowledged the scarlet-haired SOLDIER’s statement as somewhat of a verity before pulling the circular bread with no nutritional value towards him. Chewing slowly and somewhat resentfully, he reflected that at least he’d had enough sense to date someone with a sense of humor when it came to his terrible ways of dealing with stress. And the bagel did help somewhat, if only with giving him a slightly more stable sense of lucidity. Blue eyes were watching him as he ate...pale, calloused fingers playing idly with a dish towel before the Commander spoke again. 

“Y’know, Thanksgiving is supposed to be about being thankful for things, and I get that you’re thankful for your high alcohol tolerance because I’m sure you’d be dead by now, but it’s not healthy. You need a better coping mechanism.” 

“Like what?” the silver-haired FIRST muttered irritably. “Do you want me to take up smoking?” 

Genesis tilted his head.

“No, but you could suck me off.” 

Sephiroth snorted.

“Right. Because that really makes me forget everything I have to deal with.”

This time, his lover’s exhalation was just on the edge of frustrated.

“See, that’s the thing. You shouldn’t need to load yourself with gallons of inebriating substances to be borderline social.” The Commander’s tone was bitter. “I’m kind of regretting this honestly.”

Well, that made him feel _horrible._

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do” he mumbled, finishing his bagel and yanking out the drawer containing the trash bin in order to throw away the paper towel. “What do I say? How am I supposed to act?”

Genesis was looking at him incredulously.

“This isn’t a press conference” he said slowly after a minute. “You don’t have to _act_ like anything, just be yourself. You know everyone that’s coming, they’re not going to expect you to put on a face.” The Commander gave him a considering glance. “They might expect you not to slur and stumble around, but they’re not going to expect you to thank them for their contributions or compliment them on their stellar research because I can tell you no one paid for this shit but me.” When Sephiroth was still silent, the older man leaned his elbows on the table and widened his eyes in a plaintive manner. “Seph, listen. No one’s judging you here, this isn’t a test and this isn’t an integral part of your career. This is-well-it’s just _friends_ among friends.”

“I’m not a very good friend” the younger man said miserably. 

His second-in-command groaned. 

“You’re a great person” was the dry response. “You’re socially inept and you’re kinda hopeless at times but you’re honestly not as crap at this friend thing as you think you are.” His partner’s tone softened. “And I love you. Not because of what you represent but because of who you are underneath it all.” 

It was very hard to remain pessimistic when Genesis was talking to him like that.

Looking over at the numerous dishes on the counter, Sephiroth counted maybe three that he didn’t know were a staple. The redhead had certainly gone above and beyond the call of duty, and he felt suddenly terrible that he hadn’t even been a facet in the effort it had taken to get to that point. In the field, that could have cost him lives. He was-frankly-surprised it hadn’t cost him his relationship. Slowly, the younger man pushed away from the counter in order to circumvent it and draw closer to the man currently toying with his earring, a small frown on his face. The blue-eyed FIRST startled somewhat when the General grasped his hips and drew him close, but smiled nevertheless. It was a little tired and a little strained around the edges, but it was still a smile. Lowering his head, Sephiroth nudged a freckled nose gently with his own.

“I’m sorry” he murmured. “Sometimes I think you ought to just keep me in the bedroom.”

At that, Genesis grinned, his teeth flashing in the bright halogen lights of the kitchen. Long fingers clutched his forearms in a playful gesture even as scarlet lashes fluttered slightly.

“That’s a nice thought” was the teasing response. “But I’d miss you, and despite all of this, I do want you here.” A smirk. “Though, I suppose we could reserve that for later, if you want to show me what you’re thankful for.”

Against his will, Sephiroth laughed.

“You know” he murmured, tilting his head and nudging the older man’s lips with his own. “I think, that despite all of this, what I’m really thankful for is you.”

Blue eyes softened infinitesimally, and the Commander raised his hand to cup his cheek. 

“You’re so sweet you make my teeth hurt” was the semi-sarcastic, semi-tender response as he was graced with a kiss. “...But me too.” Someone knocked at the door and they drew apart. “That’s Angeal” his lover supplied, glancing down at himself and making a face. “Can you talk to him while I get cleaned up?”

Hesitating but a moment, Sephiroth opened his mouth.

“I...I think so, yes.”

And again...Genesis smiled.

“Happy Thanksgiving Seph.”

“...Happy Thanksgiving...Genesis.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** Happy Thanksgiving. Short but I wanted to do something today and it's good for the brain (probably not). Yup. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> public service message: story does not reflect my habits or views in terms of excessive drinking on the holidays or otherwise. don't be a Sephiroth (or do I can't stop you but this particular Sephiroth isn't very healthy).


End file.
